Coming To Town.

You better not sass,
You better not scowl,
You better not wrap your head in a towel,
Homeland Security is watching your town.

They're making a list,
They're checking it twice,
They might render you to Eygpt
Put your balls in a vise.
Homeland Security is watching your town.

They know when you've been sleeping,
They know when you're awake,
They stop you when you're traveling
and touch your junk, for goodness sake!

OH, you better not sass,
You better not scowl,
You better not wrap your head in a towel,
Homeland Security is watching your town.

P.

Change of Address.

Last week, we moved into our new apartment. We thought we would wait until we could afford a place big enough to house all our stuff, but John had a small one-bedroom unit come available in a building he manages downtown, and the location and the price were right.

It's an upstairs, end unit, so when there's sun, it's sunny.

The view from our front window. Small world: the building in the
foreground was Emily's father's first office.

Our living room/office/dining room/media center.

Kitchen and a bit of the bedroom.

Kitchen and living room.

It's compact, but cute, and we are enjoying having our own space with at least a bit of our artwork and kitchen implements. It's amazing how much you can miss a good set of knives.

P.

300.

Acknowledging our 300th post since this adventure began.

Living Winter.

As Californians, we've never really experienced the day-to-day reality of winter.

So when we woke up on the second day of the great Boise snowstorm

of 2010, we realized that we had to learn a new way of living.

Starting with digging out the car.

So we have to learn how to walk and drive on ice and put up
with bundling and unbundling several times a day,
but there are compensations.

It isn't really bliss, but it is incredibly beautiful.

P.

More Frozen Turkeys. Parade Edition.

We all decided it would be fun to go to the annual downtown Boise Christmas Parade.

Unfortunately, it was the beginning of the worst snowstorm Boise
has had in quite a few years. Emily managed to get us there intact.

Conditions were sketchy to say the least, but we were all game.

The crowds were sparse, but everyone seemed determined to have a good time.

There were patriotic equestrian displays.

Unicycles with snow tires.

Happy hippies.

A few holiday-addled vatos.

A big skunk.

And, of course, Shriners!
What's a parade without Shriners?

But it wasn't until we saw the reindeer that we really began
to feel the Christmas spirit.

P.

The Poop on the Poop.

L: (gazing lovingly at her Grams while sitting on the potty) Gwams, sometimes I like to call my poop "Gwams."

P.

Frozen Turkeys.

On Tuesday afternoon, we heard that people had begun to queue for the Black Friday sale at Best Buy. Of course we remember the same silliness in Southern California.

But in Boise on Tuesday the high was 21, with a low of -1, Wednesday, high 16, low 0, Thursday high 25, low 12.

On the other hand, $200 off that big flatscreen (limited quantity at this price)!!!

P.

A Frozen Turkey Dinner.

We were thankful that we were warm, because it was frozen outside.

John took O. and L. sledding in the backyard with his new ATV.

The little monkey swabs the bird.

Turkey porn.

John isn't a turkey fan, so we also did a curry-crusted prime rib on the grill.
We started with a round of mai tais, because nothing complements
sub-freezing weather like a tangy tropical drink (no little umbrellas, unfortunately). Emily's dad and
Michael and his mom joined us in gobbling John's evil, heart-stopping
scalloped potatoes, O.'s pecan cornbread stuffing and cranberry salsa,
as well as sausage bread, rolls, pies, and other devil-inspired richness.

We were thankful that no one had a heart attack or quoted Rush Limbaugh.

And we hope that you all have at least as much to be thankful for as we do.

P.

Eyes on the Prize.

L: Mommy, today I had an eye in my poop.
E: Really. Whose eye?
L: Yours.

P.

Sliding in a Winter Wonderland.

So on Saturday, we had our first snow. It didn't really stick, but it was exciting that it had finally arrived. Over the next two days, however, it snowed more and more and the temperature kept dropping, to the point that, by Monday morning we woke to 25 degrees and a layer of three to four inches of snow and ice.

Very pretty in a bleak sort of way.

But of course we aren't here just to look at the snow, we have to get out and do stuff in it. Like drive. So with great trepidation, we ventured forth on the icy roads. It was slippery. Oh, it was slippery. And it got slipperier as the temperature continued to fall.

On Tuesday morning it was 14 degrees, but at least it was sunny, so no more snow was falling.

But of course what had fallen wasn't melting. The high got up to
about 21. The roads were treacherous, and the parking lots
were worse, with practically invisible patches of perfectly slick ice.
We narrowly avoided disaster on several occasions.

Today, the high remained about 21, but it was sunny and surprisingly warm

as long as you avoided the shade and the wind wasn't blowing. Of course, I was
wearing my new flannel-lined jeans, so my perception may be skewed.
In any case, we are learning to drive in these conditions (slow, slow, slow)
and loving the beauty of the season.

P.

Again With The Tummy.

L: Mommy, I love you all the way to Syona's tummy.

At least there's no walrus involved.

P.

And So It Begins.

P.

The Search for Snow.

Repeatedly, the weather people have predicted snow, and just as repeatedly said snow has failed to fall. So on Sunday, we went looking for it. Braving the light rain and slippery roads we wound our way into the mountains north of Boise, following the Payette River toward McCall.

At first, the river banks and mountains were completely free of snow.

We climbed into the clouds. Still no snow, and the temp wasn't
much colder than it was when we left Boise.

Finally, about 60 miles from town, we hit the snow.
It wasn't much, but it was satisfying.

We stopped in Cascade for lunch, then headed home down the
rain-slick highway.

P.

You Know It's Fall When the Grass Turns Blue.

We've been told that this is an exceptionally long and lovely fall here. Usually by this time snow has fallen and the leaves have been frozen and blown off the trees. But here it is mid-November and we've yet to have any snow fall in town. The weather people keep predicting snow a couple days out, but so far they've been wrong.

In the meantime we are enjoying the fall colors, which are fading,
but only very slowly.

The parks are especially lovely.

Still vibrant with color.

Though some of the trees have lost all their leaves, and we're getting
our first glimpse of the bones of winter.

In the BSU stadium, the the grass has turned a particularly vivid
shade of blue, a sure sign that fall is fully upon us.

P.

The Return of the Walrus.

L: Mommy, I love you all the way up to the moon with a walrus and back from the moon in a car.

We're hoping the the walrus will remain on the moon where he can't burn anyone.

P.

Brrrrrr!

Now that we're through with daylight savings time, it's no longer pitch black when we get up at 7:00. The week before the switch, the sun was rising at 8:45, which is just wrong. Now, of course, it's 7:45, still wrong, but at least there are the beginnings of a glimmer of day in the sky when we rise.

It is cold, though. Yesterday it was 30 when we got up, with frost on the grass. We now have to start the car five minutes before we leave to go to the gym to get it to a bearable temperature and melt the hard crust of ice off the windshield. Luckily, the Lexus has heated seats, because the leather gets very cold overnight.

Okay, we're weather wimps. And I can't say we'd rather be back in the 90 degree, 90% humidity of Hanoi, either. But I do get a bit nostalgic for the 60-70 degree winters of Southern California, a nostalgia that I'm sure will grow stronger as the days here grow shorter and sharper. Every year, we have a few days in California when it gets this cold. Here, of course, the worst is yet to come. Our shorts and flip-flops are packed away until at least March, no January heat wave for us.

P.

Fall Has Fell. Winter Hasn't Come, But It's Colder Than We'd Really Like It To Be.

Just a few weeks ago it was fall in the mountains, now the colors of autumn have come to Boise.

We first noticed the leaves turning in the parks.

Boise is called the city of trees, and for good reason.

Then the brilliant colors spread to every street.

There are also plenty of evergreens, and the contrast between
the vivid reds, oranges, and yellows against the dark greens
and the deep blue of the sky is breathtakingly beautiful.

There are masses of brilliant color everywhere. Since neither of us
have ever lived in a place that had four full seasons before,
this is a new experience for us, one we're loving so far.
Come February, we may be feeling differently, but so far, we're in awe.

To us, it already feels like winter. Since we're on the far west of the time zone (Boise is as far west as Indio, California, but an hour ahead), it doesn't get light until around 7:30 or 8:00, so we're having to get up in the dark. The temperature has been dropping into the mid-thirties at night with highs in the low fifties during the day. To a Southern Californian, those are winter temps.

The other night, a storm blew in and when we woke up the mountains
around Boise were dusted with the first snow of the season.

All in all, it's a gorgeous time of year here, and our dread of
what's to come is making it all the sweeter.

P.